


Don't ever tame your demons (but keep them on a leash)

by bistiles (alis)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Feral Derek Hale, Gen, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alis/pseuds/bistiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is separated from the pack in their crazy attempt of dealing with hunters, Kate Argent and Berserkers in one go. He never thought it would watch Kate attack Derek or what would happen after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't ever tame your demons (but keep them on a leash)

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-compliant until the beginning of S4. I'm not considering the ending. This was written somewhere around S4E3 maybe? So there's a lot I think it didn't take into account. 
> 
> Not beta'ed, so any mistakes are mine alone.

The first thing Stiles noticed was the smell of blood. The old abandoned factory was darker than the night outside and Stiles could barely see around. But he could smell the blood, that characteristic coppery smell that, even without werewolf’s senses, he could still detect. He advanced slowly, sneakers squeaking quietly in the concrete floor. He had his bat in his hand and some mountain ash in his pocket and that was it. As a defense measure, it was a lousy one.

The pack had been fighting for a while now, trying to take down those powerful berserkers and assassins alike. They thought it was a pretty simple plan: get in, bring Kate down, finish it nice and clean - or as clean as it could possibly be. Unfortunately, nothing went as expected when they found out they would need not only to fight Kate and her Berserkers, but also a group of assassins. Everything became a mess. Stiles were separated from the others, Scott the first one gone, chasing the biggest threats. He ended up losing Malia in the midst of the fight not long after, screaming after her to wait as she charged one assassin and disappeared in the darkness of the building, leaving Stiles alone to fend for himself. He silently hoped she was all right.

The concrete floor under his foot was slippery and Stiles knew, without looking, that it was blood. It was a heeding knowledge to have, something that made every single step weight more. He didn’t want to know whose blood was that. He would rather not know at all. For once, he was glad the darkness was so deep, because he didn’t even want to see how extensively the floor was painted red.

He crossed the entire room, stopping by a door. He listened quietly, his hold on the baseball bat slippery with sweat. There was no sound at first, and he put his hand on the door handle, but then he heard voices and stopped.

He knew that voice. He could recognize it anywhere.

“It ends here, Kate.”

Stiles froze. He knew that voice, even if in his head, fangs should distort it - and they were not. It was weird, to expect it to be said in a certain way, only to hear it normal. Human. Stiles shivered, his fingers on the bat slipping slightly. He tightened his grip.

“Ah Derek.” Kate purred, making Stiles’ skin crawl. “Are you enjoying what I did to you? Being human and not a monster?”

On the other side, Derek was facing down Kate Argent. He stood there, scared. He could turn back and run… Or he could go inside. He knew that either way, his heartbeat must have given him away already. He just wasn’t sure if Kate was willing to let him go off the hook. Stiles wasn’t willing to test it out as well.

“It seems that you forgot that you are a monster now as well, Kate.” Derek growled and Stiles winced. Hearing Derek calling supernatural creatures “monsters” just sounded wrong, so wrong. “Though you always were. You have to be a monster to do what you did.”

“Killing your little family, you mean? That, Derek, was what they deserved.” She laughed loudly, an edge of hysteria coloring her voice. Stiles frowned, biting his lip nervously. Derek was fully human now, and that knowledge sat heavy in Stiles’ mind. Kate was powerful enough to kill him, and Stiles was completely aware of the prediction Lydia had. This could be it. This could be when Derek died.

Stiles opened the door, as silently as he possibly could and, for some miracle, he managed to not be noticed. He looked at the scene in front of him: Kate and Derek facing each other in the middle of what looked like the old factory’s storehouse. Derek had a gun pointed at her, a sawed-off shotgun that Stiles hoped was loaded with wolfsbane bullets. From that distance, that gun could do an incredible amount of damage, but Stiles wasn’t all that hopeful that it would work.

There was part of machinery abandoned in the corners, chains and gears lying on the floor and hanging from the ceiling. It looked like a scene from a 80’s movie, so ridiculously fit for such a monumental showdown. That thought almost made Stiles laugh and blow his cover, but he held it in. There was nothing really funny at the thought that the one coming out of it dead could be Derek.

“They never deserved it, never. You broke your own code, you-” Derek stopped and Stiles could see his temper was flaring, going wild. He didn’t doubt it was wearing on him not to jump Kate. His hold on the shotgun shook, but it was still on Kate. “You’re the monster. You have always been. I was such a fool. but this ends now. This time, I’m killing you and making sure you stay dead.”

Kate snarled, her features morphing into a more animalistic shape, her skin tinted with blue. Stiles kept walking, circling the duo in the middle, but they were both none the wiser about his presence - or merely ignoring it. He needed to find a way of helping Derek somehow, even if he had no idea what to do. It was almost hilarious to realize that he wasn’t the only defenseless human there and, even if Derek did have a gun, that had a good chance of not being enough.

“My only mistake was leaving you alive, Derek. I should have burned you with your family!” And with that, Kate lunged at Derek, just a blur in the air. Stiles more heard than saw the gun going off, and Kate fell on the ground. Derek stepped back, stumbling a bit, eyes wide in surprise.

Stiles was about to go to Derek, relief hitting him because finally she was down, when Kate just jumped up and latched on Derek, claws nailing him the back while her fans ripped the junction of his shoulder and neck. There was a spray of red and a scream that Stiles only belatedly noticed was his own.

Derek fell on the ground, eyes locking on Stiles. Kate turned, acknowledging him for the first time. She smiled at Stiles, all fangs and ill intentions, before turning back to Derek.

“Ah, look. Someone came to your rescue, Derek.” She growled mockingly. Kate kneeled down over Derek, knee on his chest, making him grunt in pain. She extended one clawed finger and traced it down Derek’s cheek. It drew blood. “Should I kill you first, Derek or should I make you watch him die?”

Derek didn’t answer. From where Stiles was, he could only see the blood pooling under Derek, red spreading way too fast. The damage was bad enough that, without his regenerative powers, Derek would die. Stiles swayed slightly on his feet at the thought.

“Hm,” Kate muttered, apparently enjoying herself. “Look at you, Derek. You were always so useless. So weak. Enjoying the view?” Kate said, standing up and turning to Stiles. He stared at her coming slowly at him, knowing full well that if Stiles ran, she could catch him. “You make things so easy for me, Derek. First you helped me kill those dogs you called a family. And now… Now you’re allowing me to rip this useless little boy to shreds. You’re so weak, Derek, it’s almost no fun at all.”

Stiles pat his pocket, looking for something - anything - that could help him out. He felt the little plastic bag with mountain ash, just enough to make a small circle around someone’s feet. Stiles breathed in, eyes fixed on Kate, while she came to him unhurriedly. It would have to be enough.

Reaching inside himself for the spark, Stiles pulled the plastic bag out, opening it in the process, and threw it at Kate. He made himself believe, with everything he was, that the mountain ash would fall around her in a perfect circle, enough to keep Kate in. He knew that was what would happen; he knew it with as much certainty as he knew his own name, the one no one but his dad knew. It would happen because he was willing it so.

And it did. Kate swept the bag aside, but the ashes that spilled were enough. The fine black powder fell around Kate in an unbroken circle. It was unnaturally round, perfect as if Stiles had drawn it around Kate with a compass. She roared, and lunged forward, only to hit an invisible wall and bounce back.

“You son of a bitch!” She bellowed, hitting the mountain ash wall with her hand, fangs bared and face blue. “Let me out, you little coward!”

Stiles smirked, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. If that had failed, he would be dead, but it didn’t and he wasn’t, so he felt like boasting a little.

“I’m the coward? You were going to kill me - defenseless, human me, and I’m the coward?” Stiles snorted, getting closer to the ring. He lowered his voice, feeling cold satisfaction fill him up as she snarled in frustration. “I would rather be a coward than a psychopathic bitch who took pleasure in killing an entire innocent family.”

He turned and looked to where Derek was lying, unmoving, while Kate screamed in fury. He ignored her and ran to Derek, but he was less than half way there before Derek’s body started to spasm on the floor. Stiles skidded to a halt and watched, horrified as Derek arched his back, roaring in a way that made Stiles Give a full-body shiver. He never heard anything like that; the roar sounded more animalistic than any werewolf he had ever heard.

“Derek?” Stiles called unsure. He watched Derek roll and kneel in one swift, aggressive motion and only when he looked up did Stiles realized how screwed up he was.

Derek’s eyes were white. Fully white, in a way Stiles recognized in the back of his mind - a whisper about wendigos and the one creature he never allowed himself to think about, about creatures so far gone into their own darkness that there was no humanity left. His fangs were bigger than usual, his claws pointed and black. His beta shift looked halfway finished, as if he couldn’t completely change. He looked possessed; his mind seemed gone.

Stiles barely had the time to throwing himself out of the way before Derek came barreling into the mountain ash circle. He collided against the invisible wall full force, the impact making a booming sound so loud Stiles winced. Kate screamed inside the circle, plastering herself against the opposite wall. Derek pushed again, roaring inhumanly and Stiles gaped. The wall was bending, blue light and sparkles flying as Derek physically pushed the magical wall in.

“LET ME OUT, BREAK THE CIRCLE! LET ME OUT!” Kate screamed. Still, Stiles was frozen in place. He wasn’t about to put himself in harm’s way for Kate, but what baffled him was how Derek was pushing and pushing the wall as if it was made of air. However, he had to do something, because if Derek got to Kate - and he would, the mountain ash barrier was straining and Stiles could feel it - he would be next. Derek looked like a mindless animal hell bent into destruction and, as much as Stiles wanted to see Kate torn into pieces, he didn’t want to share her fate. Stiles launched himself forward, willing to let her go enough if that could buy himself time, but he only managed to get close enough to see the fear in Kate’s eyes before the circle broke into a myriad of particles of light.

What came next would be engraved into Stiles’s brain for the rest of his days and he knew it. Derek descended on Kate with fury like no other, claws and fangs and a strength that had no parallel. She screamed the entire time, each hit and bite being met with screams and futile attempts of resistance. Blood splattered on his face – Kate’s blood – and he stumbled back, nauseated and afraid. Derek kept going, kept ripping and biting her apart and paid no attention to Stiles at all. Stiles could see skin and muscle being torn, could see the sickening gleam of bones and the nauseating crunch they made when broken. Stiles used Derek’s distraction and moved as fast as he dared in the direction of the door. If he could escape, if he could find the pack. Maybe just maybe, they could do something. Futile hope, Stiles thought as his feet propelled him forward into an ungraceful stumble that was all despair. He saw the shotgun lying on the floor, picked it up, blessing what little coordination he had that he managed to not fall while doing so, and was almost on the door when a roar made him turn.

Derek was running in his direction, blood bathed and crazed and Stiles barely had enough time to brace himself before they collided. He fell on the floor, air coming out of his lungs forcibly and, for a moment, everything blacked out. He blinked the darkness away only to see Derek hovering over him, spit and blood dripping from his open mouth.

I’m going to die, Stiles thought in shock.

“Derek, Derek don’t- it’s me, don’t!” Stiles whispered fervently, shotgun trapped between his chest and Derek’s body. Derek roared again and raised a clawed hand, but they didn’t decent right away. Stiles wanted to close his eyes and flinch away, but he kept them open, even if that meant being face to face to Derek’s animalistic fury and gore. He kept himself talking, because at least Derek was showing more hesitation than he did with Kate. “Derek, don’t do this, it’s me, Stiles. I know you can hear me, Derek. Derek.”

His arm descended on Stiles and he finally closed her eyes, but the impact never came. He opened them to see Derek still there, but he had punched the floor right beside Stiles’ head. He could see the small puff of smashed concrete in the air and he knew that if that had connected, it would be his brains on the floor. So he kept talking.

“I know you can hear me, man. C’mon, c’mon Derek, come back. You did what you wanted to; Kate’s dead. She’s gone, you did it, so now you can come back. Derek. Come back, please.”

Derek’s entire body seemed to vibrate over Stiles, as if it was costing him dearly not killing Stiles. And Stiles was terrified, because there wasn’t anything he could do except run his mouth with pleas for Derek to wake up from however crazy feral state he was in. Time seemed to trickle by Stiles way too slow; he didn’t know how long he stayed there, lying on the concrete floor at the mercy of a barely under control Derek panting on his face, but it seemed like an eternity. What seemed like a lifetime later, Derek closed his eyes, sagging a bit and Stiles absently noted how much tension all his muscles seemed to be holding. He opened his eyes and they weren’t glowing white anymore; they were back to Derek’s usual green-hazel shade.

“Stiles…?” Derek asked slowly and Stiles on gasped in response. All of a sudden, all his fear came crashing down on him and it was him trembling now. Derek stared at him, overwhelmed and Stiles sobbed, before closing his eyes tightly and covering his face with one arm. He wasn’t crying, but he could feel the tell-tale tightening in his chest and speed up breathing that announced a panic attack. Derek scrambled off Stiles, in silent confusion and horror, but there was nothing Stiles could do except roll to his side and crawl away from Derek. He didn’t try to stop Stiles.

Panic attacks were never fun business and this one was no exception. He could feel the adrenaline discharge on his nervous system, could feel the way his muscles trembled with the unmet desire to run. He held his ground though, riding the despair, panic, and fear that were engulfing at him. He couldn’t look at Derek, not when he was covered head to toe in blood and other things Stiles would rather not contemplate, not when he had almost killed Stiles.

Almost. Almost was the key word and Stiles latched into it like an anchor, trying to calm himself down. Eventually he did, even though he had no idea how long he was lying on the floor panting as if he was running. Derek was still kneeling at some distance, looking at the floor as if he was afraid to land his eyes elsewhere. Possibly, at that gory pile of muscles and bones that one was Kate Argent.

"What- What was that?" Stiles asked, and that wasn’t exactly what he wants to say first, but it was what came out his mouth and he would have to make it do. He was still trembling, when he sat down and looked at Derek. Derek didn’t look back, shoulders impossibly taut.

Stiles crawled forward tentatively. Derek flinched, but didn’t move away. “Derek? Are you- Are you okay?” Stiles asked, now close enough to touch and that made Derek look up. Stiles suck a shaky breath in.

Derek’s eyes were normal, but they had this faint white halo around the iris that made sweat break on Stiles’ skin. His fangs were still there, not as long as before, but his canine still looked more pointed then they should. Stiles looked at Derek’s bloody hands and his nails were short and blunt, but there was a tension on them that suggested claws instead of human fingers.

"Derek, man, I’m not gonna lie, you are kinda of freaking the fuck out of me." Stiles babbled, while considering a escape. Derek seemed to realize it, because he held Stiles’ wrist, not strong enough to hurt, but tight enough to make him stay. Stiles nodded at the unsaid request.

"Okay…" Stiles muttered and Derek didn’t let go. He just opened his mouth, exposing his fangs. It was slow and deliberate and it took a moment for his heart to stop thumping as if it was about to burst out of his chest. "You can’t talk, can’t you?" Stiles asked, more to his own benefit than Derek’s. He, predictably, said nothing in return. "Can you understand what I’m saying? Can you, I don’t know, nod or blink of something?"

Derek didn’t do any of the things, but there was intent on his eyes, as if there was indeed some level of understanding there. Stiles nodded to himself and tugged his trapped arm. Derek growled low but didn’t sounded particularly threatening, more like a warning. Stiles did it again, this time enunciating his words slowly.

"We gotta move. We have to find the rest of the pack and get you sorted out. Kate dead,-" Derek snarled and his eyes flashed full white for a moment. "Wow, okay, chill. She’s gone. You made sure of that. It’s okay, buddy.” The fangs retracted to the previous size. Stiles breathed out and repeated. “We have to go."

One heartbeat. Two. Three and Derek let go, but got closer, as if to make sure Stiles wouldn’t flee. It was weird and slightly annoying, but Stiles knew better than to say anything about it. Slowly, he stood, eyes on any sudden movement by Derek, but he kept crouched where he was. Stiles frowned. He was starting to think Derek’s brain was fried.

“Dude. We gotta go, c’mon, let’s move.” Stiles coaxed, resisting the urge to poke Derek into motion. He didn’t dare though, he merely stepped away. Derek didn’t move. He stepped a bit farther. Derek looked up, eyes still shining with that weird pale color. Unsure, Stiles took another step away from Derek.

Derek walked forward. On all fours.

Stiles blinked repeatedly, not exactly sure how to react to that. His first impulse was to laugh but, contrary to popular belief, he didn’t have a death wish. However, he did give a few more steps back, only to watch Derek following him in the same fashion. Stiles gulped, feeling something heavy settling on his stomach. This was bad. Really bad.

“… Okay.” He wheezed voice high even in his own ears. “Okay. Just come with me, alright. Follow me.” Stiles said and slowly risked giving his back to Derek. When nothing happened, he started to walk towards the door.

Outside the room was silence. He couldn’t hear anything that indicated a fight somewhere and it made Stiles anxious. Silence could both mean they all were alive and well, but it could also mean they were bleeding to death on the floor somewhere. Stiles could feel the licks of panic burning low on his belly, but he forced himself not to go there, not yet. He exhaled forcefully, trying to dispel the tension with the air existing his lungs, but he immediately took a startled breath when he felt something bumping against his hand. He yelped and turned, only to see Derek, still crouching in a very wolf-y like position, looking up at him. Derek leaned forward again and, this time, bumped Stiles’ leg with his cheek. Stiles stared wide-eyed. If there was any more of a canine-like behavior, Stiles couldn’t think of, save maybe if Derek started to pee on things to mark his territory. Something he really didn’t want to think about; Stiles shook himself out of that thought, as if shuddering would make it fade into oblivion faster.

Stiles started walking and pat his pocket for his mobile. He pulled it out and groaned at the broken screen, a long spider web if tiny cracks on the glass. Cursing, he unlocked it carefully not to cut his fingers on the glass. That was the second screen he had to change in a month and he was far from amused by it. He tapped the call history for Scott’s number and hit dial. He waited, heart fluttering in his chest at each passing dial tone. Each time it went unanswered, fear coiled in his chest. He started to walk; this time fast enough he was almost running, looking for any signs of his friends. Scott’s voice mail entered and Stiles hung up, only to call the second number on his list - Lydia. He had to find someone, anyone.

Stiles didn’t know where he was anymore, not when he was running without paying attention to where he was going. He burst through a door, not really paying attention to what he was doing and skidded to a halt. A man, clad in military gear, turned, gun in hand and Stiles took two steps back a scream dying before even blooming on his throat. The man - assassin, Stiles thought - aimed, while shouting something in such an angry tone that Stiles couldn’t make out the words. Stiles raised his hands immediately and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. He didn’t even have to try all that much.

"Whoa, okay, calm down, I’m human, 100% not-armed, totally defenseless human-" Stiles started to say and that was as far as he got before the guy shoot him.

Stiles gasped in surprise as he was knocked back and then down by the force of the bullet. For a moment, he knew he had been shot, but he couldn’t make out where - he couldn’t feel anything except incredulity. He hit the floor and lay there, completely baffled and overwhelmed by the blooming pain on his left side, before a roar took him by surprise. He had completely forgotten about Derek.

Derek though, had indeed dutifully followed Stiles round it seemed, because the next moment, all Stiles saw was a dark blue launching itself against the assassin. More shots were made by the man, which screamed non-stop in justified terror. Stiles rolled to his side enough to watch Derek ripping the guy’s throat with his teeth. A hysteric laugh bubbled inside his chest and he let it out, incapable to hold it, not through the pain he was feeling. Derek had threatened to do that to him a few times and Stiles never thought he would actually see it happening one day. At very least, eh wasn’t the victim.

Derek stepped away from the guy after he stopped screaming and moving - breathing, Stiles corrected himself - and crawled back to where Stiles was lying. His eyes were back to the white, but there was a different demeanor in Derek’s instance that suggested no aggression towards Stiles. He sat beside Stiles and leaned down, nose almost brushing Stiles’ injured side. He whined and Stiles huffed, slightly amused at the canine display of distress.

"Y-yeah, it sucks. Shit, it sucks a lot…" Stiles moaned, lying fully on his back again. He stared at the ceiling and noticed there was black spots swimming in his vision. Blood loss or shock. Maybe boss even. He would pass out sooner or later. He turned his head to Derek.

"Derek, listen to me. I need you to find the others." Stiles paused to see if Derek had got what he meant, but there was no sign of understanding. He tried again - he had too. He knew he was bleeding at a steady pace and, unlike Derek, there was no magically healing for him. "Derek, find the others. Find- Find our pack."

Apparently that was what got through because Derek snorted, shaking his head slightly before tipping his head back and howling.

The howl wasn’t only loud; it seemed to reverberate through every single bone in Stiles’ body. It was a long, blood-curling thing that tugged at Stiles’ heart like a hook under his ribcage. He raised a trembling hand and touched Derek’s arm, feeling the warm and slightly slippery skin under his fingers and the tugging diminished.

As if magic, other howls answered and Stiles was surprised that he was capable of actually recognizing the owners: Scott’s strong, steady howl, Malia’s wild one, Kira’s short yippee bark followed by a long, high-pitched scream, which was slightly creepy.

Stiles sighed in relief before blacking out.

**-x-**

Stiles woke up disoriented and cold. He blinked, feeling the world moving under him and closed his eyes quickly when he realized that the sensation was making him badly nauseous. He tried to listen and was confused for a moment before his brain kicked in.

"Oh my god, Scott, are you okay?" that voice was Kira’s, Stiles recognized and her worried, fear-laced tone shook Stiles into further conscience. He groaned and tried to open his eyes again.

"Yeah, I’m fine, it’s already healing. Fuck, what’s wrong with him?" Scott asked, sounding angry. Stiles tried to look in the direction of his voice, but his head was heavy and his eyes were blurred.

"I don’t know, but he smells weird." This time it was Malia. "He smells… Out of control. Not human."

"Well, he isn’t human, he’s a werewolf, and it makes sense for him to not smell human." Lydia answered in a snappy tone and Stiles felt his chest loose with dissipating worry. He hadn’t know if she was alright until that moment and he was incredibly relieved.

"I get what Malia means," Scott pondered. It was only then that Stiles noticed that there was a constant subtotal rumbling coming from somewhere near him. "He doesn’t smell like werewolf."

There was a pause. “He smells like wolf. But different.” Malia mused. There was another pause, longer this time. “There’s no human smell.”

Stiles finally got his muscles under enough control to move. The first thing he did see was that there was a form crouched over his legs. Derek, he noticed absently, before hissing in pain and propping himself up a bit further. The sound caught everybody’s attention.

"Stiles! Oh my God, he’s okay." Kira exclaimed, stepping forward, only to scramble back when Derek snapped his teeth in her direction.

"I don’t feel okay…" Stiles muttered, before lying back down again.

"We know, we can smell your blood." Malia growled. He knew he should be flashing her eyes at Derek, if the ratcheting in the growling was any indication.

"I was shot." Stiles explained. "There was an assassin and- and he shot me." Stiles said, his voice breaking a bit in the end. The pain was overwhelming. Whomever said that you don’t feel anything while shot was lying.

No one said anything for a few seconds. “We were wondering about the body.” Lydia mused. “Derek?”

Stiles nodded and grunted in agreement. Scott whistled low, as if impressed. Stiles could imagine why; Kate wasn’t leaving his mind anytime soon.

"We need to take you to the hospital, but Derek isn’t letting us anywhere near you." Kira explained in an anxious tone. "When Scott tried, Derek bit him. Not even roaring at Derek is making him back down. What happened to him?"

Stiles sighed, feeling incredibly tired and pained. He wanted to go back to sleep, preferentially in a hospital bed with the bullet out of his body and a guarantee of survival. His head felt fool of cotton wool and his side burned in terrible pain. He knew he would pass out again soon.

"Kate. He was fighting her, K-Kate bit him and- Can we have this conversation later? I really would like not to die."

"We should knock Derek down." Malia suggested and there was an edge in her voice that suggested he was already shifting to fangs and claws. Stiles saw how absurdly strong Derek was and if not even Scott’s alpha mojo made him step back, he really doubted that they would manage it without blood.

"Derek." Stiles called. He raised a hand and gave whatever part of Derek he could reach an uncoordinated pat. It was his back, so Stiles poked again. "Derek, buddy, I appreciate the protectiveness but I really need them to help me."

Derek didn’t move. Stiles really didn’t have the time or patience for it.

"Derek, let them move me. They are pack, you moron! You howled for them to come, they are here, let them help me!"

Apparently, that got through enough for Derek to twitch. Scott stepped forward, eyes bleeding red and crouched like Derek. They stared at each other for a moment, before Derek tipped his face down ever so slightly and crawled to Stiles’ side. Scott nodded to him and rushed to pick Stiles up.

"I got you, it’s okay, I got you." Scott muttered, with a tight smile. There was blood on his hair and side of his face and Stiles wondered if it was all his.

"Hey, Scotty." Stiles greeted and then screamed in pain at being moved. At his side, Derek growled and Stiles held his scream in. "I-it’s cool, De-Derek, totally fine." Malia picked his other arm, on his injured side, and his eyes watered. "Oh my fucking Jesus, this hurts." He huffed, teeth locked together.

Derek didn’t attack, even though he was growling still, and they quickly made his way out of the warehouse. Stiles sighed in relief and let himself pass out again. He could figure everything out after a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt "Derek kills Kate" Tumblr user @boydthebeta gave me. It somehow became something about feral!Derek.
> 
> What I'm posting is the trimmed version, because I really wanted to put it online. Problem is, this fic ended up being way bigger than I expected. So, in a way, this is a chapter one. I can't guarantee I am continuing this, but I really want to. Who knows? I won't check it as having multiple chapters for now.
> 
> Oh, yeah, title's from Arsonist's Lullabye, by Hozier. It's a beautiful song and I totally see it as Derek song. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @badmooonrising


End file.
